


Something Exchanged

by Sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr



Series: Something Extraordinary [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A plethora of toys, BDSM, Dom John Watson, Dom Sherlock Holmes, Dom/sub, Dominance, M/M, Sub Greg Lestrade, Sub Mycroft Holmes, Submission
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:07:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26396149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: Sherlock has a question to ask John... He wants to play with John's sub.
Relationships: Greg Lestrade/John Watson, Mycroft Holmes & Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes/John Watson, Mycroft Holmes/Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: Something Extraordinary [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/831105
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	1. Something Asked

Sherlock was acting suspicious at the bedroom door. John was reclined back reading and the two subs were at work.

“What is it Sherlock?” John prompted, not looking up.

“I want to play with my brother.”

John sat up and set his book aside. “I don't exactly object, if I can play with Greg. I think it would make for a fun change as long as it's just for the evening.”

Sherlock looked much happier. “Thank you, John.” He skipped off to the playroom to prepare for his brother’s return. He wanted everything to be perfect for when Mycroft came home.

John watched the detective disappear with a smirk. He was such a child at times. But if he was honest he was looking forward to playing with Greg. He glanced at his watch, checking the time. Since he hadn't received a message from either Anthea or his sub, Mycroft should be home soon. He hoped the same could be said for Greg. He was pretty positive it would be.

He got to his feet to find the detective and tell him to get Greg home now. “Sherlock-” John started, poking his head in the playroom.

“Yes, John.”

“Is Greg-”

“I said yes, John. I called him and he's already on his way here.” Sherlock looked at his friend, amused. “It was simple to deduce what you wanted.”

“Am I ever difficult to predict?”

Sherlock made a point to think about it. Then he shook his head. “No.”

“Wanker,” John said, grinning. He decided to glance over the toys himself to see what he might want to use on Greg. It was going to be fun, whatever he decided to do.

When Sherlock heard the door he was on his feet and flying from the room towards whoever had gotten in first. Finding Greg standing just inside the door, he pouted.

“Well it's good to see you too, sir,” Greg said, taking off his coat and looking at his Dom oddly.

Sherlock tipped his head on one side then lunged forward and engulfed his pet in a hug.

Greg laughed. “I definitely like that better, sir.”

After kissing him several times, Sherlock pulled back and looked at his boy seriously. “You know you mean the world to me, pet.” He framed Greg’s face with his palms.

“But…” the sub prompted.

“I need some time with my brother. I won't do it if it will hurt you, though.”

Greg brought his hands up and grasped Sherlock’s wrists. “I know you'll always come back to me, sir. I trust you.”

“Well I couldn't cope with Mycroft's nonsense full time so I don't have a choice.”

Greg glared at him for a moment before Sherlock burst out laughing.

“Oh, Greg.” He pulled him into another hug and spoke into his ear. “I don't say it enough. I love you.” When he pulled back, it was to see a huge grin on his sub's face. “Would you object to playing with John? He's expressed an interest.”

“Now I don't have a choice.”

Sherlock's mouth opened and closed and this time it was Greg who laughed.

“I mean, I'm gonna be bored if you're playing with Mycroft all night.”

“You are a naughty thing, but you're John’s problem if Mycroft agrees.”

No sooner had Sherlock finished speaking than Mycroft came through the front door and set his briefcase down.

This time Sherlock lunged at his brother.

“Hello, brother dear.”

“What was that?” Sherlock huffed in his ear.

“I meant 'sir'.”

“No you didn't.”

“No. I didn't.” Mycroft turned his head, trying to see his brother’s expression. “What's going on, sir?”

“Can't you deduce it?”

“I wouldn't presume.”

“I want to play with you tonight, brother dear. John has already agreed if you are willing.”

Mycroft glanced toward Greg, but he had already begun walking off towards the playroom.

“It seems to be okay with Gregory.” He smiled against the crown of Sherlock’s head. “I would be delighted to play with you, sir.”

“Hmm,” Sherlock nibbled at his brother's ear. “You meant it that time.”

“Yes, sir. I most definitely did.”

Sherlock grasped Mycroft by the arm and dragged him into the playroom. “Get that objectionable suit off, boy, and get on your knees.”

Mycroft watched him for a moment, with his head on one side.

“You want a bit of rough, do you?” Sherlock charged at him and cannoned him back into the playroom bed.

Despite himself, Mycroft burst out laughing. Even when Sherlock had him pinned beneath him, he couldn't stop.

Sherlock grasped Mycroft’s tie and wrapped it around his hand pulling it tight. He pulled his brother up close and pressed his lips to his, dominating the kiss.

Mycroft grew hard immediately and moaned beneath the onslaught. His hands came up to grasp at his Dom's shoulders in desperation as he sought to grind up against him.

Sherlock let him go and he fell back to the bed.

“Tut tut, brother dear. Who's the Dom here?”

Mycroft growled under his breath.

“Well?” Sherlock dropped his hand to rest around his brother's throat.

“You, sir.”

With his free hand, Sherlock unbuttoned his brother’s waistcoat, removed his tie, then started unbuttoning his shirt. When he had got the first four buttons unfastened, he dipped down and kissed the exposed flesh of his brother’s chest.

Then he began doing up Mycroft's tie again.

“Sir, what are you-” Sherlock cut him off with a finger pressed to his lips.

Once he had managed it (after 2 failed attempts) he used it to drag his brother about.

John laughed at the sight of a half dressed Mycroft being dragged around the playroom as he toyed with Greg’s bollocks.

“Sherlock-”

“No!” Sherlock snapped. “You don't talk until I give you permission.”

Mycroft couldn’t even acknowledge the order with a 'yes, sir', so he just nodded.

They finally stopped next to a bench and Sherlock turned to face his brother, stripping him of everything but his tie.

John was laughing at a distance while trailing his finger over Greg's shoulders. He turned the sub's head so he could watch as Sherlock forced Mycroft down onto the bench.

He was on his back for themoment and Sherlock straddled him. “I've been waiting for this all day.”

Sherlock ran his hands over Mycroft’s sides and chest, tweaking his nipples multiple times as he went.

“Hmm, do I leave you this way up or flip you over?” He pondered to himself.

Mycroft opened his mouth to reply and Sherlock shoved 4 fingers into it. He didn't wait for instructions, but did his best to fellate all four of them.

“Do a good job, Mycie, and I might let you have my cock later.”

Mycroft made an affirmative sound around his brother’s fingers and redoubled his efforts.

With his other hand, Sherlock reached down and adjusted himself in his trousers.

“You can't be getting hard already, Lock!” John yelled.

“Who says?” He glanced over his shoulder and winked at his sub who was watching him. “I can come as many times as I like.”

Sherlock pulled his fingers from Mycroft’s mouth and stood up. “Stay where you are.” He went to the table full of toys and came back with a pair of wide leather cuffs that he buckled on his brother’s wrists.

“You know what I'm going to do now don't you, Mycroft?”

“I am not deducing anything, sir,” He responded with a smirk.

Sherlock twisted one of Mycroft’s nipples hard. “Watch the cheek, boy.” He raised his brother's hands over his head so they lay stretched out, then attached the cuffs to a bolt in the bench using a karabiner.

When Sherlock disappeared this time it was where Mycroft couldn't see. When he returned he removed his brother's collar and replaced it with a posture collar.

Mycroft’s cock responded by getting even harder which his brother noticed immediately.

“You like that.” Sherlock gave Mycroft’s cock a slap, causing it to bounce off the sub's belly, then he slapped it again.

Mycroft squeezed his eyes shut as he held back.

“No way are you ready to come yet.”

“With all due respect, sir, you pounced on me the second I got in."

“Get yourself under control, boy, or I will,” Sherlock warned, grasping the base of his brother’s cock. “Do you really want to be caged this early in the evening?”

“No, sir!” Mycroft didn’t want to be caged at any point in the evening.

“Hmm. You sure?”

Mycroft tried to nod but then choked slightly as he remembered the collar. “Yes, sir! I'm sure, sir.”

Sherlock chuckled and released his brother’s cock only to give the head a pinch. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a peg which he applied to the tip of Mycroft’s cock. “That should help you remember to behave.”

“I don't need a reminder. Sir.”

Sherlock shook his head, tutting. “I think you do. And what I say, goes. Or do you see this relationship working out a different way?”

Mycroft hesitated a moment before answering, “No, sir.” At the look on his brother’s face, he knew he had hesitated too long.

Sherlock took a step back and began tapping his foot. Then he walked back to the shelves lining the walls. He came back with a handful of pegs and started placing them one by one on Mycroft’s bollocks. By the time he was finished, his brother had started breathing heavily and had his eyes squeezed shut.

“Are you sure with your answers now?” Sherlock asked, flicking a few.

“Yes, sir,” Mycroft panted, not willing to drop himself in it any deeper.

“Excellent.” Sherlock pulled one of the pegs off only to put it right back on. He liked the reaction he got, so he repeated the process several times, watching his brother jerk each time he removed a peg. He finally got bored of that and went back to the toys. He came back with cuffs that fit just above Mycroft’s knees. Once they were on him, Sherlock looped rope through the cuffs' D-rings and used it to pull the sub's knees back so he was spread open, then he tied the rope off at the top of the bench.

Mycroft was pretty much stuck, the posture collar meant that he couldn't move his head, and now he couldn't move his legs. And his cock was throbbing.

Sherlock lubed his fingers, then ran them along his brother’s perineum, down to his hole. “Remember what the peg is for. You're not allowed to come.” He massaged Mycroft’s entrance, then pushed in with two fingers.

Mycroft was biting his lip, wanting for his brother to gag him before he said something he would regret.

Of course, Sherlock noticed. “Oh, no. You don't get the easy way out, boy. I demand your self-restraint. Not a word out of you unless it's 'yes, sir' or 'no, sir'. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Mycroft managed to reply, but his voice was shaky with built up tension.

“Not feeling very confident, brother dear?”

Mycroft bit his lip again, Sherlock was far too sneaky for his own good. He was also far too good at being a Dom. Mycroft already felt like he had been taken apart and they had barely started.

With a devilish gleam in his eyes, Sherlock stroked his brother’s prostate once, twice, three times, causing Mycroft to cry out in tormented pleasure.

“Sherlock-”

Sherlock squeezed one of the pegs cutting him off. “Uh uh, there's only 3 words that should be coming out of your mouth.”

Mycroft gave a full body shudder. He couldn't think properly with his brother’s fingers inside him. If it hadn't been for the posture collar, his head would have been thrashing from side to side. As it was, he could only beg, “Please. Please.”

Sherlock whacked Mycroft's cock. “That was not one of the words!” He barked.

“I- It- Sir! I don't know!” Mycroft’s body was flushed bright red all over and he looked completely lost.

“Then I'll help you.” Sherlock went and fetched a dildo shaped gag and brought it back. “Open up, boy.” He pressed it to his brother's lips and slid it into his mouth when Mycroft obeyed, then buckled it in place.

“The words were yes, no and sir. You have a terrible memory for my big brother, Mycie! Father would be disappointed.”

Mycroft managed a glare at those words. How was he supposed to think with everything that Sherlock was doing to him? It was impossible.


	2. Dangerous

Idly, Sherlock started plucking the pegs off his brother’s bollocks and let them fall to the floor. As soon as he removed them all, he intended to treat Mycroft to a handful of ice. That would surely cause his erection to flag. “Oh Mycie. You're so hard!” He patted his cock against his belly. “You're being very naughty!”

Mycroft closed his eyes and tried to will away his erection, but it was no use, especially with his brother bouncing it like a ball.

“Dear me, it seems I'll have to help you out,” Sherlock said with mock pity. He disappeared from Mycroft’s sight.

“Sir! No, please!”

Sherlock was shaking his head when he reappeared. “Deary me, brother-mine,” he held up a sounding kit. In his other hand he held a bag of ice. After a judicious application of the ice pack, Mycroft’s erection had suitability wilted. Sherlock set the ice aside and opened the sounding kit, laying in out on the empty portion of the bench.

A small chuckle from across the room suggested that John had noticed his sub’s predicament. Greg was on his knees in front of him, the blond’s cock in his mouth. Happily sucking on said cock, Greg looked around as best he could and gave a start at what he saw. In the process, he accidentally choked himself on John's cock and had to pull off, sputtering.

“Oi, I didn’t tell you you could stop,” John said.

Greg coughed and managed to croak out a quiet, “Sorry, sir.”

By the time Greg got back to work, Sherlock had prepared Mycroft’s cock for the first sound. The detective held the sound to the slit of his brother’s cock and inserted it carefully. After guiding it in the first bit, he let gravity take over and watched in fascination as it sank all the way in. Mycroft grunted, his hips raising up off the bench. As he did, the sound pushed out the tip of his cock by nearly an inch.

Sherlock tapped the sound a couple of times, making Mycroft shift even more. “I'm impressed, big bro. I didn't expect you to be able to move so much the way I have you trussed up.” Humming, he went and got a strap which he placed over Mycroft’s hips and cinched it tight to the bench. “That should be better.”

Mycroft merely grunted again. It was clear what he was trying to say. 

“I don't recall asking you to think, boy.” Sherlock played with the sound, pulling it almost all the way out, then letting it sink back into Mycroft’s cock again.

How could Mycroft not think? It’s what Holmeses did right? But when Sherlock pulled the sound out and twisted he couldn’t think at all. The detective wanted to make things a little more difficult for the older man, so he removed the gag, leaving Mycroft panting. Sherlock watched his brother’s face raptly. It was absolutely fascinating. He withdrew the sound and set it aside. “I think it's time to move up to the next size.”

“Sherlock, please!” Mycroft begged.

The detective grasped his brother's cock in a punishing grip. “I expect an apology for that slip of tongue, assuming it was one.”

Mycroft swallowed, not knowing quite how to respond to that.

Sherlock frowned. “That needed a response, boy.”

Mycroft groaned. He hadn't meant to mess up. “Sorry, sir.”

“Mm. Removing the gag did not give you permission to speak.” The Dom gave Mycroft’s cock a twist, then he released it. He picked up the larger sound and lubed it, then set to work. “Apologise again,” Sherlock ordered. 

Mycroft was watching his cock with anticipation all the while trying to shift his neck in the collar that was becoming rather constricting.

After seating the sound fully, Sherlock looked at his brother’s face. He noticed a look of discomfort that didn't fit in with the current scenario and quickly deduced the cause. After he had adjusted Mycroft’s collar, he frowned down at him. “You should have said something, Myc. It could have become dangerous.”

“I would have said something if it became dangerous. Sir.” Mycroft’s words were almost sarcastic. 

Sherlock shook his head. “You're an idiot.” He glared at his brother, tempted to call John over. The best punishment for such a stupid mistake would be for both Doms to refuse to scene with him for a set number of days.

Mycroft read his thoughts in his expression. “Please, sir, no!”

Sherlock leant forward and removed the collar completely, chucking it down on the floor. He was regretting removing the gag, but doing so had given the sub plenty of chances to safe word.   
Despite the cuffs and ropes that held him in place, the loss of the collar made Mycroft feel unbearably free and unrestricted. He felt more naked than he had felt in ages. He always, always, had some sort of collar on and its loss felt like a physical blow.

John looked over and frowned. He rested his hand on Greg’s shoulder in a soothing gesture, just to keep contact, then addressed Sherlock, “What's going on?”

“My idiot brother almost choked himself and didn’t bother saying anything about it.” Sherlock glared down at Mycroft. “If he was my sub, he wouldn't get touched for a week. Maybe a month.”

John moved over to stand by his boy and looked down at him. He looked him in the eyes. “Well, he's not your sub. He's mine. The way you have him bound, he's in an excellent position for a caning. Since you were the one playing with him when it happened, I'll ask you to administer the punishment. You may decide how many strikes he deserves.” 

“John-” Mycroft tried, he had to make John see. 

The doctor reached out and grabbed the older man by the hair. “Don't even bother. What would have happened if Sherlock hadn't looked up when he did?”

The sub closed his eyes and swallowed down a lump of shame that had lodged in his throat. When he could speak, he looked at his Dom once more and whispered, “Sorry, sir. I made a mistake.”

“You most certainly did.” John released his grip on his hair. “I'll have to think long and hard about which toys are safe to use on you after this. For now, you'll take your punishment and be glad of it.”

Mycroft shifted. “Sir, it was only a mistake, I-”

“Don't care,” John finished. “Your safety is more important than anything. Carry on, Sherlock,” he went back across the room to join Greg.

The DI looked up at John in understanding. He wasn't perfect, not by any means, but he didn't think he ever do anything to endanger himself during a scene.

Sherlock had selected a cane and hefted it grimly. “Prepare yourself, brother mine, and think about why I'm doing this. Because it will hurt.”

Mycroft shook his head, struggling to try and free himself. “This is an overreaction!”

Ignoring his brother’s words, Sherlock swung the cane, striking him directly across his arse.

Mycroft’s attempts at speech were immediately cut off by a sharp yelp of pain.

“Feel free to gag him,” John called over when Mycroft went to complain between hits.

The detective stopped to consider, glancing at the dildo he had placed on the side, he wasn’t using that again. If he used one of the breathable gags, his idiot of a brother couldn’t manage to suffocate himself. He went and fetched a ball gag that was riddled with holes and shoved it Mycroft’s mouth, buckling it in place.

It was one of the worst gags they had. It made him sound like he was some sort of whistling train. Mycroft absolutely hated it, not that that mattered. He knew his brother wouldn't change his mind at this point. The sub's train of thought was thoroughly derailed when the cane made contact with his arse again. His cry of pain whistled through the gag in a humiliating manner.

Several strikes later, Mycroft was a sobbing, shaking mess. Sherlock threw the cane to the side and set about removing the sound and his brother’s bonds. As soon as he got him free, he sat down on the bench and pulled Mycroft onto his lap. He hugged his brother to his chest and rocked him, making soothing sounds. He wasn't sure what would happen next, but he knew this was what Mycroft needed right now.

Greg looked up at John with concern. “Do you need to go to Mycroft, sir?”

“No. He needs his brother right now.”

“But what if-” 

“Hush, Greg, before I cane you.” 

Greg ducked his head. “Yes, sir.” 

In Sherlock’s arms, Mycroft’s sobbing finally quieted. The detective wiped the tears from his brother’s face, then kissed his tear stained cheeks.

“You're a numpty,” Sherlock whispered. 

Mycroft merely nodded. “Is John mad?”

“Of course he's mad. You could have hurt yourself.”

The government official hid his face against his brother’s neck. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Good. John and I have to be able to trust you and Greg with your safety, both mental and physical.” Sherlock hugged his brother again. “We both love you, Myc.”

Mycroft didn't respond to that. 

Sherlock sighed, then peeled his brother off of him. “Lay down on the bench. Face down.”

Surprised, the government official did as ordered. His arms and legs felt like they were made of rubber and he was grateful he hadn't been ordered to do anything more.

Sherlock fetched the arnica cream and came back to his brother’s side. He knelt down beside him and started gently massaging the cream into Mycroft’s arse. “You know why I did this, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” Mycroft whispered.

“And you won’t be stupid like that again, will you?”

“No, sir,” Mycroft shook his head, wincing as Sherlock kneaded one of the welts.

“Good.” After Sherlock had tended to every welt, he set the cream aside. It was tempting to put an end to their activities after everything that had happened, but he thought maybe some lighter play might still be in order. It might help his brother settle more.

“Roll over,” Sherlock urged his brother. He stood up and watched as Mycroft obeyed. When his brother had settled, he spread Mycroft’s legs and sat down between them. Taking his time, he played with his brother’s bollocks and cock, not stopping until Mycroft had achieved an erection again. “Good boy,” he soothed, rubbing his hand down his back. “You can behave. This is going to be nothing rough, behave and you might get to come out of this.”

Mycroft blinked, surprised by Sherlock’s words. After what had just happened, they were the last thing he had expected to hear. “Thank you, sir,” he said, truly meaning it.

“No more idiotic behaviour!” Sherlock said, leaning forward to nip at Mycroft’s bollocks, despite the fact they’d discussed it several times already. 

“Yes, sir.” He managed to say it without too much strain in his voice, but his brother’s actions were getting to him. He wanted to squirm away even though his cock was getting hard.  
Sherlock’s gaze darted over to his own sub and he smirked before returning his attention to Mycroft’s bollocks.

John had Greg on all fours on a low table, three fingers stretching him open. The sub’s head was hanging low and his hard cock was leaking precome. 

The detective’s gaze fell on Mycroft's hole. “Hmm… what to do to you now.” He pushed his finger at the edge and left it there. 

Groaning, the government official shifted his hips, trying to get his brother’s finger where he wanted it - inside him, but Sherlock simply removed it altogether.

“Tut tut, boy. I expect patience from you. Shall we try that again?” 

“Yes, sir,” Mycroft muttered. “Sorry, sir.”


End file.
